Restroom Wall Number
by Winter's Fiction
Summary: After getting blind drunk and sick from it for the first time in his life, Kyle discovers a phone number on the men's restroom wall, and out of curiosity, he dials it. But being as drunk as he is, he doesn't know it's Bebe! KyBe My first South Park fic!
1. Blind Drunk

Kyle Broflovski groaned, as he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror of the men's washroom. The washroom stank of piss, and the walls were covered with questionable stains, but Kyle was in no mood to be a germaphobe at this point. In fact, he could have thanked the restaurant management for keeping a restroom so close to their bar area; he had just rushed into the restroom to puke, and it was at that point that he decided to end his short-lived relationship with beer.

As Kyle washed face with some icy-water to break his drunken state as much as he could, he constantly told himself to stay upright and awake. He had lost too much of his dignity, and he wasn't willing to sacrifice any more by passing out on the ground for some fake symbol of manhood.

He could clearly remember how Eric Cartman had egged him on and forced him into drinking. There was some ridiculous insult about Kyle's faith in there of course, and somehow it got him into it.

"Fuck off, Cartman" Kyle mumbled to himself, with anger and resentment as if Cartman was standing next to him and laughing at his demise. He looked up at the mirror once more and saw how awful he looked. His normal, flaming, curly and wild hair was even more wild then it was when he got into the bar, and his skin had gone white, revealing the dark circles under his jade eyes, which seemed to look tired and dull. Even his favourite t-shirt had gotten ruined in this mess; it was a lime-green t-shirt, which had "Weezer", printed on the front in white letters and had been ruined from something he accidentally spilled on his frantic trip to the restroom. It was such as shame as well, had gotten from his very first concert not too long ago.

Kyle frowned, and made his way to the paper towel dispenser to wipe off the cool water droplets that clung onto his face and hands. It was then he noticed someone's phone number scrawled on the dirty wall next to the lyrics of some song he couldn't remember.

Without any thought or question he pulled out his shiny, jet-black Motorola KRZR and dialed the number, curious as to who would pick up on the other end of the line. The phone had rang several times before a kind, feminine voice had answered.

"Hello?" the voice asked.

"Mom?" Kyle hopelessly answered. It was then he realized that the voice didn't have such a strong accent like his mother's did.

"Excuse me?" The voice questioned with confusion, "Who is this?"

"Kyle, Kyle Broflovski" Kyle murmured, nearly slipping up on the pronunciation of his own last name.

"Kyle?" the voice suddenly piped up with the spark of knowledge, "You mean Kyle from South Park High?"

Kyle nodded slowly, and answered, "Yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

"Kyle? You remember me, don't you? I'm in two of your classes!"

"Well," Kyle smiled, "Whoever you are, you sound pretty."

"O-oh!" the voice sounded surprised, and Kyle could practically hear the girl on the other end feel flustered at the sudden compliment, "Well, thank-you!"

"No, thank-you," Kyle laughed softly, "You lovely, girl, you."

Suddenly, the door to the restroom swung open with a loud creak. Appearing from the entrance was Kyle's best friend Stan Marsh, who had just been worried sick over his friend's current condition. Upon reaching eye contact with the other teen's indigo eyes, Kyle flipped his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Stan!" Kyle said with more enthusiasm than was necessary.

"Dude, Kyle, are you alright? You came rushing in here looking like you were about to hurl,"

"Even though I did hurl," Kyle began, "I'm okay. I'm like, totally fine, y'understand?"

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers before finally saying, "Dude, I'm gonna drive you home, alright? Party's over for you."

"But, but, but it's only just begun!" Kyle waved his arms in the air, not realizing how immature and juvenile it made him look. Stan sighed, and dragged the tall and lanky, Jewish boy out from the restroom. Eventually the two made it outside and into the cold, fresh air after receiving a bombardment of insults and laughter from Cartman. It was a good thing Kyle was blind drunk, and Stan's concern for Kyle was greater than his need to punch the living daylights out of the fat ass, or else the two would have promptly broken both of his stubby legs.

After some more juvenile protesting on Kyle's part, the two had finally made it back to Kyle's place. When Stan had been greeted by Kyle's overprotective mother Sheila Broflovski, he gave her a quick explanation as to what had happened, and hoped to God that she would let this go by as a simple mistake on not only Kyle's part, but on the rest of boys' parts (mainly Cartman for forcing the poor boy in the first place). After a waving goodbye, Stan drove back to the restaurant, wondering whether Cartman had ended up in the same predicament as Kyle.

After being led to his bed by his mother, Kyle practically fell on his bed and decided to sleep without even making a shred of effort to clean himself up. After all, beer _did _make some people exhausted, Kyle just supposed he was like those other people.

Before drifting into the blissfulness of his dreams, he couldn't help but wonder who that girl he called in the restroom was.


	2. Mondays Suck

**_A/N: Hey, sorry I took so long to write this chapter! My life's been pretty busy, and lack of inspiration has gotten me as well, but when I read some of my reviews, it perked me up and made me want to write more! I never would have thought that people would actually like this story since I worried I might have destroyed some of the characters' personalities. Anyway, I promise to keep pumping out chapters for this thing (I keep on thinking about ideas for new chapters anyway, so I'll constantly be working on this) until it gets to the very end. Happy reading! - W's F_**

"_Whenever I look back_

_On the best days of my life_

_I think I saw them all on T.V._

_I am so homesick now for_

_Someone that I never knew_

_I am so homesick now for_

_Someplace I will never be"_

Kyle promptly slammed his hand on the sleep button of his alarm clock and roll onto his other side. Sure, he liked "The Bravery", but he didn't want their songs blaring in his ears when he was experiencing his first hangover. He couldn't even remember what day it was, and he definitely couldn't remember what had happened the night before. All Kyle knew was that he had gone out drinking, and practically killed himself with the gratuitous amounts of alcohol he had ingested.

_Why would I even bother drinking that much? I bet Cartman had something to do with this._

With that, he slipped out of bed and realized he was wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before. He took a whiff of his t-shirt and grimaced at the stench of booze and vomit that wafted from the fabric. Without a doubt he wanted that shirt to be washed right away, and he quickly tossed the shirt into his dirty laundry hamper that was peering out from his unorganized closet.

After getting himself tidied up and properly dressed, Kyle proceeded to call Stan to get some information on what he did the night before.

"Hello?" Stan answered.

"Stan, It's me Kyle,"

"Hey, Kyle. What's up?" Stan questioned.

"Dude," Kyle began, "What happened last night? I kind of lost track."

"You don't remember at _all?_" Stan exclaimed, sounding shocked.

"Well, I know I was drinking, which would explain my pounding headache. But what happened while I was drunk?"

There was silence on the other side of the line.

"Oh, please don't tell me I did anything crazy like sleep with some whore or something,"

"Well is there some chick in your bed?" Stan asked, jokingly of course.

"No, well. At least I don't think so. After all, I could have slept with some midget and she could be hiding underneath the covers or something"

Stan broke into laughter, "A midget! I bet she climbed up a ladder just to get to eye level with you, huh? Hell, I would even need to get a ladder to get to eye level with you!"

"Ha ha, very funny. I didn't even know I was freakishly tall up until now, Stan. Thank-you for enlightening me." Kyle replied with a fake-sternness in his voice.

"You're welcome," Stan chuckled.

"Anyway, any idea what happened?"

"Well, not too much," Stan started, "You pretty much got drunk, said some stupid stuff, and ran into the bathroom to puke. After that I drove you home 'cause you were so out of it."

"Ah, okay," Kyle said with relief, "By the way, what day is it today?"

"Dude, it's Monday. You didn't know?"

"Shit!" Kyle's relief immediately washed away, "I'm going to be so late! I probably already missed the bus…"

"Well if you get here quick enough, you'll be okay."

"I hope, anyway. See you later, Stan"

"See ya."

Kyle quickly hung up and pulled out his orange and green jacket and pulled his worn-out, familiar green ushanka onto his curly mess of hair, pushing some of his orangey-red locks in front of his tired emerald eyes.

As he made his noisy and quick descent down the stair, Kyle announced that he was going to borrow the car to get to school and slipped out into the garage before his parents had time to even question his late start.

Kyle had fumbled with the keys furiously before managing to unlock the front-seat door of the family car. He was praying that he wasn't going to be late. He couldn't afford to be late. If he got into trouble for being late, it would only just add on to the amount of trouble he was in now for arriving home in his drunken stupor. The forces of the universe seemed to hate him at this point.

After opening the garage, he backed out of it as fast as he could and sped down the icy roads of South Park in order to get to school. He didn't care if he was speeding or not, or whether he might have run over some old lady crossing the street. All that mattered was getting to school right away before it started without him.

Lucky for Kyle, he had arrived almost in time; the principal had announced over the P.A. system for the students to go to the first period classes. If he ran, he could make it to his first class. So, after parking the car into a parking spot (two if you counted that on of his back wheels had crossed onto another spot since he parked diagonally) he dashed towards the entrance of South Park High as fast as he could.

He could hear the murmurs of some of the other students as he rushed down the halls, accidentally bumping into a fellow student or two. He also clearly heard someone call out, "Watch it!" as he nearly knocked over all of the books that they were carrying.

Finally, he saw his first period class just down the hall, and sighed in relief knowing that bell hadn't rung yet. Although he still knew that keeping his current pace was the best thing to do since the bell could go off at any moment.

_You're almost there, _Kyle thought, _Just keep going._

_***_

Bebe Stevens couldn't help but be jealous as she watched her best friend and her boyfriend's fingers dance around each other elegantly until they finally became entwined with each other. Why was it that her ex-boyfriend Clyde Donovan had never done the same for her? Of course, she didn't need a hopeless romantic like Stan, but still, she wanted someone who would care for her, rather than beg to get into her pants. She wanted a perfect relationship like the one that Wendy Testaburger had.

Bebe sighed, _It's completely hopeless._

Sighing once more, she sifted through her tan messenger bag for her notebook. After digging deep, she then concluded that she must have left it in her locker by accident; it definitely wasn't at home, since she recalled picking it up and shoving it into the bag, whilst accidentally crushing one of her recent, not-so-great tests.

"Mr. Garrison," Bebe called out to the teacher that seemed to follow his students right from third grade right until high school, "Can I go get my notebook? I kinda left it in my locker…"

"Sure, but be quick, Bebe."

Bebe gave a swift nod and got up and out from her seat. As she got up, she eyed the empty seat beside her desk.

_I guess Clyde's skipping…again._

Bebe turned back to the door in front of her, and swung it open, hearing a yelp of pain and the sound of books tumbling down onto the floor, which was then followed by a low groan.

Bebe quickly peered out from the edge of the door, looking down at the innocent bystander she had just smacked with the heavy, wooden door. What she saw was a familiar, light-skinned face, which was now crumpled up in pain. The face's emerald orbs, which were obscured by some stray orangey locks, were now locked with her blue ones.

"Kyle?" Bebe gasped, "Are you okay?"

Kyle rubbed the back of his neck as he got to his knees and began to pick up his fallen books. "I'm fine, " he replied.

"Sorry about that," Bebe laughed, "Want to come with me to my locker?"

"U-uh," Kyle stuttered, surprised by her sudden friendliness. Didn't the two only speak to each other unless they were forced to? It wasn't that Kyle hated her; in fact he enjoyed being around her. There was just some inexplicable feeling that would stir up every time he would talk to her. It wasn't love he would assure himself time and time again. There was just something about her that intimidated him.

"So," Kyle began, trying to start up a conversation, "What did you do this weekend?"

"Well, let's see," Bebe answered, "I went to the mall with Wendy on Saturday…"

It was about at that point that Kyle could barely keep his mind from wandering away from the oh-so-interesting topic of shopping. Why was it that girls considered walking around for hours and spending money on ridiculous a hobby? He knew for himself that if he were to go to the mall, it was only for something he truly needed.

Still, even though the topic was dull, Kyle managed to pay attention so he wouldn't have an angry Bebe screaming at him afterwards.

"…anyway, we thought it was totally hilarious, How about your weekend, Kyle?"

"Yes," Kyle answered, as if in a daze. Bebe's eyes narrowed in frustration, to which the Jew responded with an "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"How was your weekend, Kyle?" Bebe said, emphasizing every syllable in her sentence.

"Oh, well, not much happened, really. I went to some bar or restaurant with a couple of my friends. I kind of got drunk though, and I don't really remember much after that," Kyle admitted.

"Drunk? You?" Bebe asked in shock.

"Yeah, Cartman got me all riled up, and I guess I just lost all sense after that," Kyle laughed nervously.

"You two have a really unhealthy relationship," Bebe stated as she neared her locker. Kyle watched as she twiddled her fingers around the lock in order to input her combination. Then, she yanked the lock and swung the door of her locker open, nearly hitting Kyle as he leaned against the lockers next to Bebe's. It was at that point that he caught sight of some of the pictures that were taped onto the locker door.

They were just traditional teenage girl photos; some were ones Bebe took in the bathroom mirror with a couple of friends, others were pictures from birthdays, and there were one or two pictures of Bebe and Clyde.

'Well, I'd say you and Clyde would have an unhealthy relationship as well." Kyle stated in a nonchalant manner, to which Bebe sighed and turned to him.

"For your information, kosher boy, we're not in a relationship anymore,"

"Again?" Kyle laughed, to which Bebe scowled. There was a long awkward pause between the two.

"Hey, if I said something stupid, you can just tell me," Kyle said calmly.

"It's nothing," Bebe sighed, "Why'd you say our relationship was unhealthy?"

"Well, whenever I saw you two together, he looked like he wanted to get into your pants more than anything. Even Wendy thought the same thing,"

"Wendy said that? How do you know?"

"Well, she sits with me, Stan and Kenny sometimes at lunch, so sometimes she just talks about the gossip that you girls would talk about," Kyle shrugged, "Anyway, hurry up. If I don't get to class soon, I'm going to be late."

With that Bebe slammed he locker shut and locked it up. She couldn't help but notice that with every footstep the two took, the more nervous he'd get about being late.

"Well, if you're that worried, why don't you go and run before you're too late?" Bebe suggested. She turned to see what Kyle thought of her suggestion, but soon she noticed him running down the hall like a maniac.

"Thanks, Bebe!" Kyle called out. Bebe giggled.

_Boy, can that Jew run…_


	3. Don't You Like Girls?

"Well, look who finally showed up!" Kyle could hear Stan call out to him as he managed to slip into the classroom a split second before the bell had rung, "How's the first hangover of your life treating you?"

Kyle's head, as if it was aware of the question Stan had asked, throbbed in response. Kyle groaned. He had barely noticed it as he was getting up this morning, as his fear of not only being late for school, but also his fear of being yelled at by his overprotective mother had outweighed everything else. It was only now that it decided to return with unrelenting force.

"Just swell," Kyle responded as he promptly sat down in the seat next to his friend. "I bet Cartman had something to do with this."

"I think anyone could have guessed that," Stan chuckled.

"You know, he's been doing this for years, and yet, I can't seem to just ignore him and be on my merry way, you know?"

"Don't worry about it so much, Kyle," Stan reassured his Jewish companion. "What's been done has been done. It could've been much worse, you know?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Kyle sighed.

As the boys continued on with their small talk, Bebe had returned to her desk with her notebook in hand. Kyle couldn't help but notice her take a small glance at him before finally sitting down. For a split second, her eyes were locked with his own. There was something about them that almost seemed desirable. She then turned her head, and his mind wandered elsewhere, drowning out the rest of the world around him.

He began thinking about the past they shared together. It was by association through Stan that their fates seemed to blend together into the incomprehensible mess that it is today, or, at least he believed it was a mess. How could somebody be so desirable, and yet, so intimidating and frustrating at the same time? His stomach would churn every time the memory of his first kiss with her would cross his mind. To him, it was a repulsive thought, and yet, he could never seem to forget about it. That fateful day in that Stan's clubhouse would forever haunt him until the day he died.

He could recall her impish grin as a young Wendy had dared him to kiss her. Mustering all the courage he had, as well as ignoring his absolute disgust, he reluctantly kissed her. The way her soft lips met his own, and the smell of her perfume were all too vivid in his mind. He could completely understand his horror and fear as he left the treehouse in order to flee from any further contact or association with this young girl.

And yet, here he was, years later, sitting behind her, thinking about her to the point of obsession.

He shook his head, almost as if to shake the rattle the thought of her out his brain.

Kyle had barely noticed the bell ring, signaling that it was time for the students to head to their second period classes. With that, he took his leave, and walked out and into the overly crowded, and noisy hallway. Before he had the chance to slip into the sea of students, he felt a feminine hand tap at his shoulder.

"Kyle?"

He turned to meet a woman with long, wispy black hair, and a pink beret sitting snug atop her head. Pressed against her purple jacket were numerous notebooks and textbooks. It was clear that she was rather studious, as well as an over-achiever, as Kyle has always known her. It was also the same woman who dared him years ago to kiss the root of nearly every romantic problem he had ever had. Though, of course, he could never really blame her for his own emotional instability. Instead, he just focused all of his confusion and frustration on Bebe Stevens.

"Oh, hey, Wendy." Kyle responded, slowing his pace so she could walk with him, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing really," Wendy smiled, "And yourself?"

"Same old, same old. I'm pretty sure you heard about what happened last night when I went out with the guys."

Wendy sighed, "Yep, I heard you and Stan talking about it in class today. You and Cartman really do have an unhealthy relationship."

"Well, that's not the first time I've heard that today," Kyle replied, half smiling, "Bebe told me the same thing."

"I couldn't help but notice that you were staring at her today."

Kyle turned to Wendy, furrowing his brow. How could she have possibly caught the split-second glance he and Bebe shared? Was he really staring at her? He then began to question his feelings towards her again.

"Kyle?" Wendy called out, taking note of his silence.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking."

"About Bebe?" Wendy grinned mischievously.

"No!" Kyle said rather sternly, hiding his true thoughts as the two neared the second period class. The last thing he needed was this girl assuming he had feelings for her best friend. Besides, what if news of this traveled around the school? His relation to Cartman had already caused him enough grief as it was, and if he had to go through any more nonsense, he was certain that he was going to go insane.

"Well, how do you feel towards her?" Wendy asked.

"To be honest, she scares me."

Before Wendy could respond, the two were already at their next class; English. Kyle, being the polite man he was held the door open for one of his few female companions. She acknowledged this with a nod.

"Scare you?" Wendy said, lowering her voice as the two headed into the classroom, "What you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. She terrifies me!"

Wendy laughed, "Oh, Kyle. Don't you like girls?"

"Well, I'm talking to you, aren't I?"


End file.
